


I Believe I Can Touch the Sky

by feverbeats



Category: Bandom
Genre: Crack, Ficlet, M/M, Slash, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More annoying than Brendon and Spencer playing Guitar Hero for twelve hours straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Believe I Can Touch the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Crackfic written for Imp's birthday before I knew much about the fandom. I did know that Ryan and Brendon hated Guitar Hero, though.

"Well, fuck."

Brendon sighs. "This is sooooo not my fault."

"Yeah, Brendon, I can see that! Because, Jesus, how the hell could you have done this on purpose?" Not that Brendon _wouldn't_ do something like this on purpose, because he _would_, in a heartbeat. But Ryan just can't see how he would have managed it.

Brendon blinks innocently and gives his wings an experimental flap. A feather falls off. "They're very soft and fluffy," he says with–appropriately–a cherubic smile. "Want to touch them?"

Ryan does _not_. Well, ok, he really kind of does, but that would be admitting defeat, and if he does that, there's no telling what will come next.

They are most definitely wings. Big, soft, fluffy, cuddley wings, and Ryan should not be thinking that, because then he might have to bury his face in them. Also, the wings appear to be coming out of Brendon's back, which means Brendon's shirt has been completely destroyed. Ryan swallows. "Um. Did you just _wake up_ like that?"

"Nooooo," Brendon says. "I was online last night, really late–by the way, your snoring kept me up, you do snore, you know–and the next thing I knew, my back felt all heavy and fluffy."

Ok, annoying. More annoying than Brendon and Spencer playing Guitar Hero for twelve hours straight. Most of all, Ryan is really kind of jealous. He's the awesome one who's into all sorts of weird shit. He should be the one who spontaneously grows wings.

"Betcha I can fly," Brendon says.

_Not. Fair._

*

As it turns out, Brendon can't fly, just flap uselessly. This is heartening, although Ryan kind of wishes they'd thrown Brendon out of their six-floor hotel window to find it out. See, Brendon knows how awesome Ryan thinks the wings are, and he won't stop gloating.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to touch them?"

Ryan stares fixedly at his computer and tries to ignore Brendon.

Brendon bounds over behind Ryan and breathes down his neck. "Hey. What're you doing?"

Ryan _growls_ a little. "I'm searching Google to find out how to get rid of your wings. Where are the guys, anyway?"

"Out," Brendon says happily. "I sent them for coffee and doughnuts before I woke you up."

Ryan pushes back in the chair. "Ok . . . And what did they think of this whole wing thing?"

"Spencer pulled a feather out and tickled me with it. Jon just rolled his eyes."

Now Ryan is pissed off because of the wings _and_ because Jon handled it better and didn't freak out and didn't search Google and didn't want to push Brendon out a window. Fuck.

"Hey," Brendon says, "Wanna have sex?"

Ryan thinks that talking to Brendon is a little bit like banging his head against a wall and a little bit like riding a roller coaster. "Yeah," he says, "Ok."

*

"Mmmmm," Brendon says.

Ryan kind of agrees.

Brendon's back is slick with sweat between the wings (wings, fucking wings) and his hips are way too thin. Coming from Ryan, that doesn't mean much, though. He rocks his own hips against Brendon's ass, making what's probably a _really_ undignified noise.

Brendon's hands are scrabbling in the sheets and his mouth is open and Ryan bets his pupils are blown wide and black, and how could Ryan have failed to do this before?

"Is–is it the wings?" Brendon chokes out.

Ryan tries to catch his breath, but he can't stop his hips from moving. "Um, shit. No. Fuck no. I fucking hate the wings. I want wings. I can't, I don't–"

Brendon moans and _flaps_ his wings. Ryan gets a mouthful of feathers. "Woah! Watch what you're doing with those!" he yelps.

Brendon snickers, sounding way too coherent. "Heh. Ok." He flaps again and Ryan winds his hands deep into the feathers, and god_damn_ that's soft–

Ahaha. No. No, he does not want to admit that the wings' surprising softness made him come. Hell, he still doesn't even want to admit that Brendon _has_ wings.

"Nn," Brendon says. "You. _Oh_." And he shudders under Ryan.

Seconds later, there's a knock on the hotel door, and Ryan hears Jon's voice. "Hey, guys? We're locked out!"

Brendon yawns and pulls Ryan closer. "Next time," he says, "sex pollen."


End file.
